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EUGENE ARAM
the bottom — stared and stared — by Jupiter — a great big
alligator! — walked off immediately — never liked quiet pools
since — augh, no!”
“An argument against quiet pools, perhaps, Bunting; but
scarcely against quiet people.”
“Don’t know as to that, your honour — much ofa muchness. I have seen Master Aram, demure as he looks, start, and
bite his lip, and change colour, and frown — he has an ugly
frown, I can tell ye — when he thought no one nigh. A man
who gets in a passion with himself may be soon out oftemper
with others. Free to confess, I should not like to see him married to that stately beautiful young lady — but they do gossip
about it in the village. If it is not true, better put the Squire on
his guard — false rumours often beget truths — beg pardon,
your honour — no business ofmine — baugh! But I’m a lone
man, who have seen the world, and I thinks on the things
around me, and I turns over the quid — now on this side,
now on the other — ‘tis my way, Sir — and — but I offend
your honour.”
“Not at all; I know you are an honest man, Bunting, and
well affected to our family; at the same time it is neither prudent nor charitable to speak harshly ofour neighbours without suffi cient cause. And really you seem to me to be a little
hasty in your judgment ofa man so inoffensive in his habits
and so justly and generally esteemed as Mr. Aram.”
“May be, Sir — may be, — very right what you say. But
I thinks what I thinks all the same; and indeed, it is a thing
that puzzles me, how that strange-looking vagabond, as
frighted the ladies so, and who, Miss Nelly told me, for she saw
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EDWARD BULWER LYTTON
them in his pocket, carried pistols about him, as if he had been
among cannibals and hottentots, instead ofthe peaceablest
county that man ever set foot in, should boast ofhis friendship
with this larned schollard, and pass a whole night in his house.
Birds ofa feather fl ock together — augh! — Sir!”
“A man cannot surely be answerable for the respectability ofall his acquaintances, even though he feel obliged to offer
them the accommodation ofa night’s shelter.”
“Baugh!” grunted the Corporal. “Seen the world, Sir — seen
the world — young gentlemen are always so good-natured; ‘tis
a pity, that the more one sees the more suspicious one grows.
One does not have gumption till one has been properly cheated — one must be made a fool very often in order not to be
fooled at last!”
“Well, Corporal, I shall now have opportunities enough ofprofi ting by experience. I am going to leave Grassdale in a few
days, and learn suspicion and wisdom in the great world.”
“Augh! baugh! — what?” cried the Corporal, starting
from the contemplative air which he had hitherto assumed.
“The great world? — how? — when? — going away; — who
goes with your honour?”
“My honour’s self; I have no companion, unless you like to
attend me;” said Walter, jestingly — but the Corporal affected,
with his natural shrewdness, to take the proposition in earnest.
“I! your honour’s too good; and indeed, though I say it, Sir,
you might do worse; not but what I should be sorry to leave
nice snug home here, and this stream, though the trout have
been shy lately, — ah! that was a mistake ofyours, Sir, recom-
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EUGENE ARAM
mending the minnow; and neighbour Dealtry, though his ale’s
not so good at ‘twas last year; and — and — but, in short, I always loved your honour — dandled you on my knees; — You
recollect the broadsword exercise? — one, two, three — augh!
baugh! — and if your honour really is going, why rather than
you should want a proper person who knows the world, to
brush your coat, polish your shoes, give you good advice — on
the faith ofa man, I’ll go with you myself!”
This alacrity on the part ofthe Corporal was far from displeasing to Walter. The proposal he had at fi rst made unthinkingly, he now seriously thought advisable; and at length it
was settled that the Corporal should call the next morning at
the manor-house, and receive instructions as to the time and
method oftheir departure. Not forgetting, as the sagacious
Bunting delicately insinuated, “the wee settlements as to wages, and board wages, more a matter ofform, like, than any thing
else — augh!”
CHAPTER X
THE LOVERS. — THE ENCOUNTER AND QUARREL OF
THE RIVALS.
Two such I saw, what time the laboured ox
In his loose traces from the furrow came.
— Comus.
Pedro. Now do me noble right.
Rod. I’ll satisfy you;
But not by the sword.
— Beaumont and Fletcher, The Pilgrim.
While Walter and the Corporal enjoyed the above conversation, Madeline and Aram, whom Lester soon left to themselves, were pursuing their walk along the solitary fi elds. Their
love had passed from the eye to the lip, and now found expression in words.
“Observe,” said he, as the light touch ofone who he felt
loved him entirely rested on his arm, — “Observe, as the later summer now begins to breathe a more various and mel-
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EUGENE ARAM
low glory into the landscape, how singularly pure and lucid
the atmosphere becomes. When, two months ago, in the full
fl ush ofJune, I walked through these fi elds, a grey mist hid yon
distant hills and the far forest from my view. Now, with what
a transparent stillness the whole expanse ofscenery spreads itself before us. And such, Madeline, is the change that has come
over myself since that time. Then, if I looked beyond the limited present, all was dim and indistinct. Now, the mist had faded
away — the broad future extends before me, calm and bright
with the hope which is borrowed from your love!”
We will not tax the patience ofthe reader, who seldom
enters with keen interest into the mere dialogue ofl ove, with
the blushing Madeline’s reply, or with all the soft vows and
tender confessions which the rich poetry ofAram’s mind
made yet more delicious to the ear ofhis dreaming and devoted mistress.
“There is one circumstance,” said Aram, “which casts a momentary shade on the happiness I enjoy — my Madeline probably guesses its nature. I regret to see that the blessing ofyour
love must be purchased by the misery ofanother, and that other, the nephew ofmy kind friend. You have doubtless observed
the melancholy ofWalter Lester, and have long since known
its origin.”
“Indeed, Eugene,” answered Madeline, “it has given me
great pain to note what you refer to, for it would be a false
delicacy in me to deny that I have observed it. But Walter is
young and high-spirited; nor do I think he is ofa nature to love
long where there is no return!”
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EDWARD BULWER LYTTON
“And what,” said Aram, sorrowfully, — “what deduction
from reason can ever apply to love? Love is a very contradiction ofall the elements ofour ordinary nature, — it makes
the proud man meek, — the cheerful, sad, — the high-spirited,
tame; our strongest resolutions, our hardiest energy fail before
it. Believe me, you cannot prophesy ofi ts future effect in a man
from any knowledge ofhis past character. I grieve to think that
the blow falls upon one in early youth, ere the world’s disappointments have blunted the heart, or the world’s numerous interests have multiplied its resources. Men’s minds have
been turned when they have not well sifted the cause themselves, and their fortunes marred, by one stroke on the affections oftheir youth. So at least have I read, Madeline, and so
marked in others. For myself, I knew nothing ofl ove in its reality till I knew you. But who can know you, and not sympathise
with him who has lost you?”
“Ah, Eugene! you at least overrate the infl uence which love
produces on men. A little resentment and a little absence will
soon cure my cousin ofan ill-placed and ill-requited attachment. You do not think how easy it is to forget.”
“Forget!” said Aram, stopping abruptly; “Ay, forget — it is
a strange truth! we do forget! the summer passes over the furrow,
and the corn springs up; the sod forgets the fl ower ofthe past
year; the battle-fi eld forgets the blood that has been spilt upon
its turf; the sky forgets the storm; and the water the noon-day
sun that slept upon its bosom. All Nature preaches forgetfulness. Its very order is the progress ofoblivion. And I — I — give
me your hand, Madeline, — I, ha! ha! I forget too!”
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EUGENE ARAM
As Aram spoke thus wildly, his countenance worked; but
his voice was slow, and scarcely audible; he seemed rather conferring with himself, than addressing Madeline. But when his
words ceased, and he felt the soft hand ofhis betrothed, and
turning, saw her anxious and wistful eyes fi xed in alarm, yet in
all unsuspecting confi dence, on his face; his features relaxed
into their usual serenity, and kissing the hand he clasped, he
continued, in a collected and steady tone,
“Forgive me, my sweetest Madeline. These fi tful and strange
moods sometimes come upon me yet. I have been so long in
the habit ofpursuing any train ofthought, however wild, that
presents itself to my mind, that I cannot easily break it, even in
your presence. All studious men — the twilight Eremites ofbooks and closets, contract this ungraceful custom ofsoliloquy. You know our abstraction is a common jest and proverb: you must laugh me out ofi t. But stay, dearest! — there is
a rare herb at your feet, let me gather it. So, do you note its
leaves — this bending and silver fl ower? Let us rest on this
bank, and I will tell you ofi ts qualities. Beautiful as it is, it has
a poison.”
The place in which the lovers rested, is one which the villagers to this day call “The Lady’s-seat;” for Madeline, whose
history is fondly preserved in that district, was afterwards wont
constantly to repair to that bank (during a short absence ofher
lover, hereafter to be noted), and subsequent events stamped
with interest every spot she was known to have favoured
with resort. And when the fl ower had been duly conned, and
the study dismissed, Aram, to whom all the signs ofthe seasons
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EDWARD BULWER LYTTON
were familiar, pointed to her the thousand symptoms ofthe
month which are unheeded by less observant eyes; not forgetting, as they thus reclined, their hands clasped together, to
couple each remark with some allusion to his love or some deduction which heightened compliment into poetry. He bade
her mark the light gossamer as it fl oated on the air; now soaring high — high into the translucent atmosphere; now suddenly stooping, and sailing away beneath the boughs, which
ever and anon it hung with a silken web, that by the next
morn, would glitter with a thousand dew drops. “And, so,” said
he fancifully, “does Love lead forth its numberless creations,
making the air its path and empire; ascending aloof at its wild
will, hanging its meshes on every bough, and bidding the common grass break into a fairy lustre at the beam ofthe daily sun!”
He pointed to her the spot, where, in the silent brake,
the harebells, now waxing rare and few, yet lingered — or
where the mystic ring on the soft turf conjured up the associations ofOberon and his train. That superstition gave licence
and play to his full memory and glowing fancy; and Shakspeare — Spenser — Ariosto — the magic ofeach mighty master ofFairy Realm — he evoked, and poured into her transported ear. It was precisely such arts, which to a gayer and
more worldly nature than Madeline’s might have seemed but
wearisome, that arrested and won her imaginative and highwrought mind. And thus he, who to another might have proved
but the retired and moody Student, became to her the very
being ofwhom her “Maiden meditation” had dreamed —
the master and magician ofher fate.
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EUGENE ARAM
Aram did not return to the house with Madeline; he accompanied her to the garden gate, and then taking leave ofher,
bent his way homeward. He had gained the entrance ofthe
little valley that led to his abode, when he saw Walter cross
his path at a short distance. His heart, naturally susceptible to kindly emotion, smote him as he remarked the moody
listlessness ofthe young man’s step, and recalled the buoyant
lightness it was once wont habitually to wear. He quickened
his pace, and joined Walter before the latter was aware ofhis
presence.
“Good evening,” said he, mildly; “if you are going my way,
give me the benefi t ofyour company.”
“My path lies yonder,” replied Walter, somewhat sullenly;
“I regret that it is different from yours.”
“In that case,” said Aram, “I can delay my return home, and
will, with your leave, intrude my society upon you for some
few minutes.”
Walter bowed his head in reluctant assent. They walked on
for some moments without speaking, the one unwilling,
the other seeking an occasion, to break the silence.
“This to my mind,” said Aram at length, “is the most pleasing landscape in the whole country; observe the bashful water stealing away among the woodlands. Methinks the wave
is endowed with an instinctive wisdom, that it thus shuns
the world.”
“Rather,” said Walter, “with the love for change which exists everywhere in nature, it does not seek the shade until it
has passed by ‘towered cities, and ‘the busy hum ofmen.’”
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EDWARD BULWER LYTTON
“I admire the shrewdness ofyour reply,” rejoined Aram;
“but note how far more pure and lovely are its waters in
these retreats, than when washing the walls ofthe reeking
town, receiving into its breast the taint ofa thousand pollutions, vexed by the sound, and stench, and unholy perturbation ofmen’s dwelling-place. Now it glasses only what is
high or beautiful in nature — the stars or the leafy banks.
The wind that ruffl es it, is clothed with perfumes; the rivulet that swells it, descends from the everlasting mountains, or is formed by the rains ofHeaven. Believe me, it is
the type ofa life that glides into solitude, from the weariness
and fretful turmoil ofthe world.
‘No fl attery, hate, or envy lodgeth there, There no suspicion walled in proved steel, Yet fearful ofthe arms herself doth
wear, Pride is not there; no tyrant there we feel!’
“I will not cope with you in simile, or in poetry,” said Walter, as his lip curved; “it is enough for me to think that life
should be spent in action. I hasten to prove if my judgment be
erroneous.”
“Are you, then, about to leave us?” inquired Aram.
“Yes, within a few days.”
“Indeed, I regret to hear it.”
The answer sounded jarringly on the irritated nerves ofthe
disappointed rival.
“You do me more honour than I desire,” said he, “in interesting yourself, however lightly, in my schemes or fortune!”
“Young man,” replied Aram, coldly, “I never see the impetuous and yearning spirit ofyouth without a certain, and it may
2
”
2
Phineas Fletcher
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